


Dirty Back Road

by dotfic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Car Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-29
Updated: 2011-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-15 05:07:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dotfic/pseuds/dotfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This thing between Cas and him, it's nothing Dean knows how to classify, but he'll admit in his own head that he likes having this, tucked into the darkness on a back road, however he can get it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty Back Road

**Author's Note:**

> a/n: Re-posted in honor of Dean Winchester's birthday and written for blindfold_spn to the prompt _Cas rides Dean in the driver's seat. It's cramped but neither of them can get their hands off each other for long enough to move to a more comfortable place._ Title from the B-52's. Set at some vague point in the future after spn 6x11.

He and Cas are two hours out from Riverview Cemetery in Wilton, on the way to meet Sam at Bobby's, the Impala pulled over to the side of a back road with the night folded over and around them. Dean's pretty sure they stop because he needs to sleep for a while -- at least that's the reason Dean gives.

For the whole two hours they've been on the road that night, there's been an itch, a hum under his skin and Castiel too quiet even for Castiel in the passenger seat and Dean too aware of his mouth and jaw and hands and body. This thing between Cas and him, it's nothing Dean knows how to classify, but he'll admit in his own head that he likes having this, tucked into the darkness on a back road, however he can get it. Leaning against the window, Dean closes his eyes and then reaches out (it's definitely Dean who reaches, although it seems like Castiel's moved closer to him), fingers wrapping around Castiel's wrist, the fabric of his trenchcoat.

Dean pulls, and then he feels Castiel's breath on his neck, and then Castiel's lips brush over Dean's, and that's all it takes, Dean's all the way hard and wanting. And they could get out and do this in the back, it would be a lot easier but suddenly it's all grabbing hands and neither seems to want to risk letting go. Cas's mouth moves down to Dean's neck, teeth lightly pressing into his flesh, and Dean opens his eyes to work Castiel's tie loose. Everything's shadowed with a trace of light from the stars around the edges. There's barely room for Castiel between Dean and the steering wheel but somehow, they manage it, Castiel maneuvering his slender body until his thighs are pressing on either side of Dean's.

The slide of Castiel's tongue is hot over his, and they both taste of a hint of graveyard dirt. Castiel's hands, sliding up under Dean's shirt to press against bare skin, are grungier than Dean has ever remembered seeing them. But that's what happens when an angel insists on helping you dig up old bones. With the tie discarded, Dean pushes his lips and tongue into the vulnerable hollow at the base of Castiel's throat while Castiel lets out a soft grunt and grinds down against Dean, and Dean loses track of what he was doing, murmurs, _shit, Cas, just..._ and then his fingers bump into Castiel's at the button of Dean's jeans.

One of them works the button free, and Dean pulls down the zipper. Castiel reaches into Dean's briefs and closes his hand around Dean's cock, gives it a confident stroke or two and Dean throws his head back, hips jerking forward.

There's too much fabric, the ridiculous folds of Castiel's trenchcoat, and Dean starts tugging it down over his shoulders, needing skin. Finally the thing's tossed over to the passenger side, where it slides to the floor, followed by Castiel's sports coat. Castiel glances over at the clothes as if concerned for their location, but Dean bites at Castiel's lower lip, teasing, tongue pushing in and Castiel turns back to him, breath warm into Dean's mouth as his fingers trace the length of Dean's cock. He slides his thumb over the tip, then wraps his hand around it, and Dean murmurs _yeah, yeah, like that_. Then Dean's undoing Castiel's belt, pulling it free of the buckle, opening the clasp of his slacks, and working down the zipper.

He cups his hand over Castiel's hardness through his boxers, pushes, and Castiel lets out a moan from deep in his throat that goes right to Dean's cock and he almost comes right there. He tries to think about other stuff, but Castiel's hand on his dick is making it impossible to think, period.

The Impala smells of their sweat and desire and a hint of wet dirt and vinyl and stale french fries and something else that Dean guesses is probably Castiel, cool and remote yet a little heady. He gets his hand around Castiel's dick, starts to jerk him off and Castiel thrusts against him. Their cocks slide together, their fingers, wet with precome, tangling around each other. Dean's hips thrust forward. He knows Castiel's back must be up against the steering wheel and it must be uncomfortable as all get out but that doesn't seem to be affecting Cas any.

Dean wants more than this, wants to be inside Castiel. He stops working at Castiel's cock to start sliding his pants down over his narrow hips, until Castiel's slacks and boxers are bunched below his knees. Cas is still wearing his shoes -- it'd be funny if Dean weren't so distracted wanting to fuck him right the fuck now.

There's lube somewhere, probably in the duffel in the back seat, but before Dean can mention that, Castiel fingers go tight around Dean's wrist, and he guides Dean's hand around to the crack in Castiel's ass. Dean slides a finger in, slick with precome, and Castiel's body jerks as he lets out a small approving sigh. After spitting into his other palm, Dean moves his other hand back there too, uses saliva and precome, thrusts one finger in, then two, Castiel's grip digging tight into Dean's shoulders. Dean's planning to finger fuck him for a while, work him open nice and slow, but Castiel shifts without warning, presses Dean back into the bench with a strength that reminds Dean for a second that Castiel isn't all human, and lowers himself onto Dean's cock.

Cas thrusts down, and Dean lets out a groan, Castiel hot and tight around him, his cock against Dean's stomach. Castiel's hands pin his shoulders, pushing Dean hard against the bench as he takes Dean deeper in. His gaze is locked on Dean's and it's almost too much. Dipping his head, Dean lets his tongue find the warm skin, salty with sweat, in the middle of Castiel's chest, just above where the next button of his shirt hasn't come undone.

They find a rhythm, the seat springs creaking beneath them. He hears Castiel saying _Dean, Dean_ under his breath, and the heat of him, clenching around Dean, is abso-freakin-lutely incredible.

And then Castiel's eyes screw tight shut, mouth open in an "O" of pleasure as he comes over Dean's stomach. A second later Dean's orgasm slams through him, heat and pleasure that obliterates everything except Castiel's skin sliding over his, Castiel beneath his fingers.

Dean feels the hammer of his heart going too fast as Castiel slides free of him. As Castiel slumps against Dean, both of them sticky with come, Dean feels Cas's heart going too fast as well.

Neither of them moves right away, Castiel's face tucked against the crook of Dean's neck, Dean's arms around him, until their heartbeats finally slow.


End file.
